Death and Enchiladas
by chaos-theultim8-order
Summary: Who would have thought reading all those fanfictions would lead to this? A different take on the afterlife.  Rated for character death and what not.


1

Alixe Carpenter

Stormy Stipe

Another Afterlife Final

May 2011

Chance, Numero Dos

My last days alive weren't what most would call, peaceful. I laugh now, Hell not long ago I was laughing about it with Lex Luther of all people. Before I met Lex and Clark, I was an outcast. I was struggling to balance books for my literature courses at the UW, and at the same time keep up my gaming time so I could brag to the geek club. It was the only way they would talk to me. I did after all have breasts. For twenty years I was in my mother's grasp, taking care of my little sister. I couldn't let May live with that heroin addict and whatever man she had to warm her bed.

May finally graduated, valedictorian, with a full ride scholarship to California State. She is going to be a nurse. Maybe someday she could help mom. It is too late for me and dad though. We both died. He blew his brains out the day I went to see him. I was going to tell him I was moving in. Instead I got there in time to watch as he gave up on life.

I think it was shock that allowed me to act normal. I mean Sara my only friend since preschool didn't even notice. I dove deeper into my studies. I think I finally got a B on a math test. Don't really remember though. I do remember seeing things. It seemed though that only Lysander, my rat, noticed anything weird. It was like he could see them too. Then a week later I died.

I found out that Death had a sense of humor. All I had done was ask it was okay to see if my family was coping ok my death, if grandma was blaming herself for my falling down the stairs and being skewered by the picture frame she placed on them. Right after I asked I was no longer in the bathroom of Apartment D, Star City; I looked around at where I ended up, I was at one of the last places I expected.

It was like an episode of the twilight zone, attending your own funeral, and that is saying something since I was 'living' in superman's reality since I died. Most people don't do that, but me I am special. I guess my puppy eyes of doom really do work. Sure I just wanted information. I was never good with crying people, or normal people. How the hell did I survive a week with my grandma? Anyway not everyone gets to have their request granted. When most people die they go to the afterlife of their religion. If they don't have one, they are assigned an afterlife and get pranked for the first decade. Hmm. I may have been an atheist in my former life. Anyway some people don't do enough in their lives and get a second chance. That is how I was able to plead my way to my own funeral. Actually I wanted to check on how my grandma was doing. She did see me die and all.

Those who get a second chance end up in different reality. In the end I didn't do much. I had my nose in a book or pointed towards a laptop, reading. Hence chance numero dos. The reality a person ends up in depends on what they were exposed to. Movies, you ended up there, changing it a bit by the newbie, you. Same with anything that could make a new world, video games, books, fanfiction, comics, and more that I can't think of. And depending on each life changes the number of worlds you go through. Lemme tell you it was a shocker when the big bad grim told me this, and after it made me piss myself. Asshole.

I ended up in the same world as Superman, I am pretty sure it was a Smallville version because I didn't think Oliver Queen was in the others. I was just as hectic as real life. Lex was nice enough to help me with my paper work. Even pulled some strings to get me a job. I am still trying to figure out how I was able to make friends here. Then again no one knows my mother, or slept with her or both.

In hind sight I feel that I shouldn't be surprised that I died. See I was really close to my dad and I paid him a surprise visit. Unfortunately, he blew his brains out as I opened his apartment door. Talk about traumatic. I saw him in the purgatory. It is also known as, the waiting room to the afterlife, the death one not the club that is in Mass Effect. He is happier now no longer having to deal with inmates, social pressures, and the lot. I am pretty sure that when he left I saw his pants fly back into the waiting room. Anyway, right after he died eBay sent him a package, he ordered something for me for my birthday, which was a day short from two weeks after he, er quit on life. It was an autographed picture frame of Christopher Reeves. I got a tingling feeling up my arm the second I touched it. It felt alive.

Then I started seeing superman characters semi impose themselves in reality. My family thought it was from trauma from having to wash my father's brain matter from my hair. I knew it was the picture. While it was true I was traumatized for eternity, it didn't explain why the visions I was seeing were characters from Superman. Just for future references, seeing Clark Kent in the shower just as you wake should be illegal. Just saying, it could cause a girl to have heart problems, not to mention the brain shortage and blood rush to the face. My poor capillaries never recovered.

He was there before death. I remember dying. One of the visions scared me and I tripped when escaping it. I remember the bruising pain of falling down the stairs. I wasn't exactly a stranger to that being a klutz and all. But the stabbing pain that came half way to the bottom landing was new. It was on my left side between my ribs. My breathing became difficult, like running the mile for p.e. while a wet sponge was in my mouth. Not that I could run the mile; damn gravity and breathing issues. Then the pain was gone and I saw Clark, fully clothed, (the jury is still out on whether that was good or bad) holding his hand towards me.

I was wondering about the lack of pain and why it sounded like grandma was screaming far away while I was right there. I figured that the pain went away when he appeared. Plus he was a male that for the first time in what I thought then was my life that showed me more than passing notice. He was hot and he was holding a hand out, really. Hello, I am a twenty year old American virgin, here. I haven't been kissed either. Being socially a non-gender completely sucks. Pulling for some of my nonexistent courage, I took his hand.

He ended up walking me to purgatory, talking about how he is excited to meet me and he will see me on the other side. I was confused. Then I saw the waiting room and my dad, with his brains back in his head and only the holes that he was born with. I am still wondering why the hell the waiting room had enchiladas for occupants. Thankfully when you're dead breathing is optional.


End file.
